It was already raining lightly when I left the office late Friday afternoon. By the time I merged onto the interstate, the gentle summer rain had turned into a gushing torrent of water. Somewhere along I-459 south of Birmingham, I could barely seen the tail lights of the car creeping along in front of me.
Traffic was bumper to bumper in all three lanes of each direction. We inched along dangerously. I was afraid of what I might hit as I kept going forward, but I was equally afraid of being hit in the rear if I didn’t move fast enough.
I simply couldn’t see what was going on — and I was afraid that trying to pull off the road was no better since I couldn’t see anything and others couldn’t see me.
So I moved along blindly — barely moving — as buckets of rain continued to fall from the sky.
And then I saw something that seemed like a faint shaft of light in the sky off to my right. The rain still beat down furiously, but where was that light coming from?

Without motivation, dreams fade,
Has it really been so long since I’ve been ‘real’ with someone?
If you beg someone to make you his priority, you hurt yourself
What kind of person are you if there’s not a word to define you?
We all see bits and pieces of reality; not a one of us sees whole picture
There’s a secret to contentment that selfish people never accept
New YouTube channel launched for video versions of my essays
Reality check: A stupid racial prank isn’t ‘the worst thing anybody can do’
Am I betraying the truth if I don’t preach to the converted each day?